Birds are circling abovenThey're called back to a waiting glovenOh, why don't they fly away?nnSurely they have guessed by nownThere is no gun to shoot them downnAnd still they staynFor what they saynn(Chorus)nnAre we killing them with lies?nAre we fighting for the life?nKilling them with thoughts?nCan we never get enough?nKilling them are we killing killing every single feeling?nIt's a trained responsennBirds are circling abovenThey're called back to a waiting glovenThis Sordid gamenIt fears my namenI have worshiped some false GodsnI run to them like pavlov's dogsnHide my shamenIt fanned the flamennChorusnnAre we killing them with lies?nAre we fighting for the life?nKilling them with thoughts?nCan we never get enough?nKilling them are we killing killing every single feeling?nIt's a trained responsennWe're all preset to reset to dumb(Repeat)nnnSomebody told me oncenBeat them 'til they start to get used to itnNext thing they’re lining upnnAre we killing it?